I head back up the stairs and find Charlie on the bed, still crying with the covers pulled over her entire body and head.
“I’ll call Beck. Maybe you left it in his truck.”
She quiets down, tugging the blankets off her face just a sliver so I can see her sad brown eyes. “Okay, yeah…maybe.”
Pushing the blanket off her head, I brush back her still damp hair from her tear-soaked face. “Hold on.” I tap his name on my phone screen, and it rings three times before he finally answers.
“Ugh, Rosie. Are you drunk calling me again?”
“What?” Confusion swims in my head and I stare at my crying daughter who’s crumpled on the bed. “No.”
“Is it Charlie? Is she okay?”
“We’re fine. But Charlie can’t find her stuffed mermaid. You know, the one you gave her? She had it with her tonight. And at dinner…shit.” My brain shifts to the memory from earlier in the night when Charlie set the mermaid on the bench next to her in the booth. “It’s at the restaurant.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” I answer on an exhaled breath. “Unless it’s miraculously in your truck, I’m pretty sure she left it at the restaurant.”
“Stay on the phone, I’m gonna go out and check.” There’s a groan and the sound is just enough to scrape beneath my skin in a familiar way. His breathing picks up tempo and grows louder in the phone. Followed is the sound of keys jingling.
“Thanks. She’s been sleeping with it ever since you gave it to her. She’s a mess over here.”
There’s muffling in the background until he finally speaks into the phone again. “Nope, not in the truck.”
“Lovely. Guess we’ll be taking a little drive tonight. I doubt she’ll be able to calm down without it.”
“Now, hold on.” He exhales into the phone. “I’ll go over there and look for it. I’ll bring it by if I find it.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to do that. You must be tired. You have work early, don’t you?”
“It’s fine. It makes no sense you having to load Charlie up in the car when I’m only five minutes away.
“You sure?”
“Of course. Anything for you.” He clears his throat. “For Charlie.”
My insides burn. My FaceTime starts ringing on the other line—West. I ignore it. “Thanks, Beck. Call me when you find her.”
15
BECK
“Igot it!” I sputter into the phone after Rosie answers. “Looks like she’s still in one piece.”
“Oh good, thank you!” Relief sounds in her tone.
“I’ll be there in about five minutes.”
“You’re our savior. Seriously, you have no idea.”
I hang up and drive faster than I probably should. This isn’t a race. But tell that to my heartbeat, because it hasn’t gotten the memo. It’s been going a mile a minute since my phone rang and I saw Rosie’s name flash across my screen.
By the time I reach Dottie’s cottage, my pulse is too fast. I force myself to take a few moments and catch my breath. I’ll be no good to them if I’m out here having a panic attack.
Experiencing a kid’s lost object is new to me. How dire is this situation? Because the way Rosie sounded on the phone and by the way Charlie was carrying on in the background, I’d say it’s very serious.
I rush to the back door, and I don’t even have to knock. Rosie swings it open and the relief on her face is visible. Her shoulders lower while she exhales an audible sigh and a genuine smilepulls at her lips. It’s the kind of smile that she used to have when she’d look at me. “Oh thank God. You honestly saved the day.”
